


Cue

by Voido



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Fluff, M/M, best title i know, i'll link the prompts i still have, let ryuji say fuck, most are some i saw on tumblr once, one shots, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 20:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13819257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voido/pseuds/Voido
Summary: "Dude, really?"Or: The one-thousand and one PegoRyu (prompt) one shots the world never needed.[no. 6: Surprisingly, Akira's exceptionally fond of headpats..]





	1. Salty-Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> I realized this ship helps me write at least something small every other day, and I know I saw a million (or more) prompts in my tumblr-life that fit them perfectly.  
> This one was something around the lines of "A eats chocolate, B kisses a stain off their lips. A offers the chocolate, but B says it tastes better that way."  
> PS: None of these are gonna be artistic masterpieces, lol.

“Isn't this a chick flick, dude?”

Even though he knew the answer to quite obviously be _yes_ , _of course it is,_ Akira looked over to the TV screen with widened eyes, as if he actually had to see a bit of the movie to make sure he didn't confirm anything that wasn't true. There was dancing, there was singing, there were two girls desperately fighting over an average-looking _sunnyboy_ -kind of guy. _Everything_ about it _screamed_ chick flick, and Akira did his best to hide a smirk, now going back to studying the face next to his. There was a _very_ intense scowl on Ryuji's face, which made the fact that he didn't even notice the stain at the corner of his lips even funnier. His tendency to eat with his whole face was nothing new to Akira, but it never failed to amuse him immensely. This time, though, that wasn't necessarily all there was to it.

The air in the attic was hot and sticky, and in hindsight, it might have been better to meet up at Ryuji's place, but they hardly ever did that; after all having a café downstairs also brought some upsides,  especially for Akira, who had grown to love hot coffee no matter the temperature. And on top of that, just right now, he  _really_ didn't mind the fact that the whole room was a bit too warm, because it meant the sweet little chocolate-mark on Ryuji's face was almost shining a little, and he was still frowning at the movie. Akira couldn't help but smirk to himself before leaning in a bit more. 

“No, man. I mean, yes. Very yes, but it's hot, and, uh.”

“You're hot, too.”

He enjoyed every second of the pained  and slightly shy expression he could see build up so fast and so  _intensely._ Ryuji wore his emotions like no one else, and Akira always felt an almost dirty kind of satisfaction whenever he managed to trigger one that surely no one else got to see. Deep shades of pink right over the cheekbone were one of them,  and the possibility of  getting more than that were enough for him to slowly close in and gently lick over the stained spot. As he had expected, due to the unbearable heat, it melted on his tongue, and he got exactly what he wanted – a sound that was in the best kind of way somewhere between  annoyed  moan and  excited  squeak.

“For not liking chocolate, you sure spread it.”

“Y-yeah. It's the one with the salted crackers in it. Y-you know, the one Ann threw at my goddamn head calling it _absolute heresy._ The combination is actually, uh, cool.”

There was no reason to explain that, as Akira had seen the wrapper of said chocolate bar, but the memory of Ann  _literally_ throwing it in Ryuji's face made him chuckle, even if not as much as the fact that his own warm breath caused his friend to shiver, maybe even tickling his neck a bit. But Ryuji was stubborn, so incredibly, adorably stubborn, that he refused to  move or even tear his eyes from the TV screen, his frown growing deeper and his fingers playing with the sheets, just so he had something to occupy himself with.

Sure, Akira could give in and either back away or finally go for a kiss, but he wouldn't be himself if he didn't make best use of the opportunity to tease Ryuji until he somehow broke – which he would, at some point. The only times he didn't were those where Akira showed mercy, and that was only when he felt like he'd overdone it in some way.

“Mhm, I agree. It tasted quite…extravagant, I'd say. There's just something about licking the saltiness off of you that I enjoy.”

Ryuji's eyes twitched, but he pressed his lips shut so he wouldn't make  a single sound . His left hand was desperately buried into the pillow, and he seemed to be considering smashing it in Akira's face, but it was also quite obvious how he enjoyed the words and had a fairly hard time concentrating on the movie now. To make things just a bit worse – or a lot better, actually –  Akira lowered his head to Ryuji's neck, patiently watching a few drops of sweat sink into his shirt. He'd never be able to explain it, but it wasn't a lie. Something about placing his lips right onto the slightly wet skin and tasting the salt was incredibly arousing to  him , and the fact that he  _did_ get a moan as a reply now didn't help with that at all.

“Dude, how is everything you do so goddamn perfect?”

He didn't think it was – he  _knew_ it wasn't – but enjoyed the compliment either way. It was probably a miracle how much he had gotten Ryuji to open up to him, after even just the fact that he wasn't as straight as he had always thought to be had left him confused enough to almost stop functioning. Now, and it  somehow  made Akira proud to know that  _no one_ they knew would believe it, Ryuji was actually quite comfortable with everything they did. Sure, occasional touches had never been a problem, but the second he'd understood that they'd turned into more than simple signs of friendship and brotherly affection, things had changed. He'd been shy, insecure and reluctant. The memory almost hurt Akira a bit, but at the same time, it reminded him of how they'd overcome all the hesitation together, and that was enough to make up for it.

He only realized how he'd gotten lost in his thoughts when the visible swallowing right in front of him made him snap out of it. Right, he'd been on a very important mission to be one  _hell_ of a tease, and he hadn't even properly started yet. There was a hand lingering somewhere close to his own, and he took it to rub small circles over the soft skin, just barely noticing how it was  shaking .

“Want to tell me about the movie?”

“N-not really. Not payin' much attention, h-honestly.”

“What a pity.”

It wasn't enough and he knew. Every touch, every small kiss he planted on his friend ' s neck, it wasn't even close to enough, so he did what seemed most logical to him: Bite. Not too much, but enough for it too  pinch , and enough so that he could suck on the skin a bit, getting a sharp inhale as a clear plea to go on.  But just playing along would be boring, so instead he kissed back up to where he had licked the corner of Ryuji's mouth, and rested his lips right there. 

“I-I still have some of the chocolate, if you want it s-so damn much.”

“Mh, I'm sure. But it tastes so much better off your trembling lips.”

He was shoved away slightly, so little force to it that it almost made him laugh, but he managed to keep it together. After all, he was the one who'd built up the mood, and he wasn't going to kill it off now. It was _way_ too much fun watching Ryuji's resolve not to give in falter, his eyes glancing over a bit too frequently for it to be intentional, and his lips still shut tightly.

But as much fun as it was, Akira wasn't a monster, and his wide grin turned into a genuine smile when he stole a proper kiss, making sure his head wasn't in the view so Ryuji could keep pretending he was trying to focus on the awful movie. It was hard not to make fun of the mediocre singing, and Akira could only imagine the dancing – not that he had a problem with that. He knew how much fun dancing games were, and doing a choreography surely was only better. But that didn't save a terrible teen movie from being ridiculous.

He let his free hand rest on Ryuji's head, holding him in place, and slowly licked over his lips until they finally parted, enjoying the warmth, the taste and the softness, so entirely contrary to his bold, vulgar character. It was almost cute.

“You're unexpectedly focused today.”

No answer. So he _was_ holding himself back with all he had, and Akira couldn't help but grin again when he let go of Ryuji's hand and instead reached for his hip, the small spot over his waistband where his shirt had ridden up, grabbing just enough to feel muscle and bones. After all, he'd never pretended he wouldn't play dirty if he needed to, and all out of sudden, he felt the desperate urge to win, even though they weren't openly competing anything. He gently caressed the warm skin a bit, reaching the smallest bit deeper to tug on the thin fabric. However, he wasn't even thinking about going further than that, instead deepening their kiss and watching the pair of hazel eyes in front of his squint before closing. Win. Not that he had much time to cheer about it.

“Screw it.”

Because over the course of hardly a second, he found himself pressed into the mattress, one hand on his chest holding him down and another clawing into the bed sheet right next to his head. His shocked expression didn't last long, making room for a cocky smile and a raised eyebrow.

“I'd announce my victory, but I _really_ want that kiss you're planning to give me.”

“Man, s'it your mission to make sure I don't forget what _audacious_ means?”

Oh how he enjoyed the sound of smart-sounding words off Ryuji's lips, especially if they were meant as a playful insult. Instead of answering, Akira just shrugged and raised his chin provocatively. He'd have to lie if he pretended  to be in control of the situation at this point, but he didn't mind.  The hand on his chest impatiently pulled his shirt up, which was freeing in more ways than one, since it was only getting warmer in the room with them touching, their faces mere inches from each other's. There was something peaceful in how they stayed close, with every rational instinct urging to pull away to cool down. The perfect focus on each other's eyes, like they were meant to never look away. As if things should forever stay like this.

“You were right, you know?”

“'bout what?”

T heir lips touched just barely, a vibrating sensation with every whispered word, with every smile and every grin they shared.

“My place in this world really is next to you.”


	2. Improvement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This actually isn't a prompt, but based on a dialogue [from the game](https://i.gyazo.com/aefd7d88b2d4438f3b8edff8fe4380d3.png). It was too cute not to write about.

“Hey, is school fun?”

It was a highly casual question coming from Morgana, so Makoto didn't really expect anyone to answer in any other tone than that. Maybe Yusuke would say something about how it wasn't much different from being at home, since school, for him, surely included a lot of drawing. It could also be Haru talking about her vegetables she grew on the rooftop. When it was Ryuji who answered, Makoto didn't think much, first. That was, until she actually heard his words.

“Well…it's been gettin' better, I guess.”

No one immediately commented on that, so she decided to let it go as well. Thinking about it, though, she'd noticed how Ryuji, even though his grades were still astronomically bad, hadn't failed a single exam in quite a while – she knew, because as the student council, one of her duties was to keep an eye on the grades of students who could potentially drop out if they didn't improve soon.

Thinking about it now, she had no idea why she hadn't noticed earlier, but after Ryuji's results had dropped after his incident with Kamoshida, they had suddenly gone up drastically again at some point. Sure, he was still doing even worse at school than Ann, and his interest in the topics was rather little, but it seemed as if he still tried to study at least enough to not fail.

 _No_ , Makoto thought. _He can barely focus on it if we all study together. How does he…?  
_ Her curiosity would kill her at one point for sure, but she needed to know just what it was that kept a disinterested student focused enough to not fail, since maybe she could use that to motivate some of the other trouble-makers and soon-to-be-dropouts at school. Before she could ask, though, Ann seemed to have gotten the same idea.

“Yeah, I noticed you're not skipping classes anymore to go home early. Although I'm still curious about what you're waiting for at the stairs, like, everyday.”

Oh.

_Oh._

Makoto couldn't help but chuckle at that, because even though she believed that Ann didn't understand what was going on, it was quite obvious to herself. It was true, she often saw Ryuji waiting for something – _someone –_ whenever she decided to go home right after classes, but she had also regularly seen his face light up at someone approaching him, the widest, happiest grin on his face, only to fist bump with an almost equally happy looking Akira, before they both made their way to the train station together.

But even that didn't explain how Ryuji was motivated enough to actually, _actively_ study. Even if he spent time at the diner or wherever with Akira after school, it could still easily result in him pulling a manga from his bag and reading that while Akira did his best to keep his – actually pretty great – grades up.

“I'll have to say,” she started slowly, not yet sure how to lead the conversation in the intended direction, “that I haven't received any input from the teachers about you failing any tests lately, Ryuji. I won't compliment on your grades, but I appreciate that you're seemingly trying at least a bit.”

For a reason she couldn't quite grasp, the purring engine of the car sounded like Morgana was laughing about something. That and the shocked expression on Ryuji's face had Makoto tilt her head and raise an eyebrow, even more confused when he shouted:

“Sh-shaddup you stupid cat! I swear I-”

“Oh? You sure are acting tough for the idiot you are!”

“I'll show ya who's an idiot as soon as you transform back!”

“Unless you're too busy staring at-”

“Mona. You know the price.”

Akira's voice was entirely neutral, as if he was reading a newspaper headline, but there was no doubt about the impact the words had, since Morgana went back to a wordlessly purring car in a second. Ryuji still looked shocked, maybe even _scared_ , although Makoto did not quite understand why. Staring at…? It would most likely be something like Ann's chest – which in itself was a statement uncalled for, since Morgana himself was just as guilty in that regard – so what exactly was the problem right now?

It was when Makoto caught a glimpse of a tiny smile on Akira's lips that she decided on the desperate need to investigate.

 

\----- -----

 

Spying on one's friends turned out to be a lot harder than on strangers, Makoto learned fast. The first time, Akira had spotted her before they'd even reached the train station, inviting her to accompany them to the diner. It had been nice of him to ask, sure, and judging from the grin on Ryuji's face, he wouldn't have mind either, but she'd decided that if she couldn't get her mission done, it was better to just head back to school, pretending she'd forgotten something there.

The second time, she made sure to keep a bigger distance from the duo. It worked, but proved to be quite the waste of time as all the boys did was go to a bookstore on central street to grab some new manga. From what she could see, they hardly even talked, and since she didn't see them grab any school books or the like, she figured this wasn't the day where they'd necessarily study together.

Eventually, after more than two weeks of trying, she succeeded in following them to the diner unnoticed, heading to a seat that was hidden enough for them not to notice her, but close enough so that she could eavesdrop in on their conversation.

“Uh, dude. Again? This shit's hopeless with me.”

“You said that about everything on the last exam. If I remember correctly, your results on that were quite satisfying?”

Satisfying? That sounded like way more than _not failing_ , and now that Makoto thought about it, she _had_ in fact heard Kawakami-sensei say something about a problem kid doing _unnaturally well_ in an exam, but in no way had it sounded like she'd been talking about _Ryuji._

“Yeah, Kawakami's still on my ass for that tryin'a find out how I cheated. Dude, at this point even I'm not sure if I cheated and forgot.”

For some reason, Makoto couldn't help but smile. Whatever it was that Akira did to help Ryuji, it actually worked. It surely had to be more than simply sitting together – she'd tried that with the whole group as well, with little to no positive outcome – and she hoped that she'd find out today. It could turn out to be easy improvement in motivating the students _she_ tutored after class, although she knew her skills in dealing with individual people were nowhere close to Akira's.

She turned to her own homework, enjoying two or three Frui-Teas before she heard the dull bump of what seemed like a head dropping flat onto the table.

“'s hopeless, man.”

The wood repressed the sound of Ryuji's voice, but Makoto could easily imagine the desperation radiating from him, and even the supportive smile on Akira's lips when he said:

“It most certainly isn't. Get over here and we'll do it together, hm?”

She knew that Akira had his back to her, so when the sound of moving and rattling papers ebbed away, Makoto knew it was safe to turn around and dare to look. What she saw didn't look weird at first sight. Akira and Ryuji, both looking at the same page of a book, their shoulders slightly touching. Akira giving guidance through a math problem and Ryuji trying to follow along to solve the function. It was agonizingly slow, sure, but the speed was something they could advance on later. For now, it was mesmerizing to watch how it _worked_. Ryuji eventually dropped the pen he'd been clinging onto, leaned back into the soft fabric and let out a content sigh before turning to face Akira with a huge grin, getting one of those smirks as a replay that Akira would put on after a successful battle in the Metaverse.

It was then that Makoto started to understand: The two of them simply synced extremely well. Maybe it was competition, or the satisfaction of making the other proud, but either way, it worked out and made them happy. How truly encouraging to watch.

“Well, guess now it's your turn, dude! Ya still ain't even gettin' close to keeping up with my runnin'.”

“Mhm, I'll try a bit harder today to impress you, that's for sure.”

And just when Makoto wanted to look away, deciding that she'd seen enough to rethink and improve her own approaches at tutoring, her eyes locked onto Akira slowly leaning in to plant the smallest, shortest, yet most affectionate kiss she'd ever seen anyone give on the corner of Ryuji's lips.

_Oh!_

_Well_ , she decided while facing her own notes again, fully aware of the pink shade on her face indicating how blind she'd been about the situation, _I guess I won't improve my tutoring_ that _much, then._


	3. Observation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh, yeah, somehow this is a continuation of the second OS and hell if I knew why this even happened? It feels entirely pointless, but I wanted to write it because of the very same Mementos convo that Ryuji and Akechi have which you can find [here](https://i.gyazo.com/5a7ddfd77f0f6cabaa10ec106dced14e.png).  
> I don't know, it somehow startled me how supporting Ryuji suddenly got regarding Akira's thief clothes, after basically having called them weird/ugly in the beginning ~~(which I ain't gonna lie I BETCHA he only said that because he couldn't believe how freaking H O T they are on Akira but don't mind me and my headcanons)~~ and I suppose that's where I got this "protective" vibe in his words from.  
>  Lmao this preface is way too long, sorry, enjoy this mess. <3

“I wish I could have thief clothes like Joker's.”

If anyone asked Makoto, she'd say that Akechi's voice was entirely neutral when he said that. It was a simple statement carrying little to no admiration, jealousy or even general valuation. Sometimes, she couldn't help but marvel at how easily he could lie, especially to such an extend. On one hand, he was pretending to be kind, nice and supportive, and on the other, everyone on the Mona-bus right now was very aware that he was only waiting for his one opportunity to _kill_ Akira.

Even the mental sound of the word was enough to make Makoto feel sick.

Still, even though she knew – they all knew – how much of a false, deceitful traitor Akechi would prove to be, she couldn't deny that sometimes, it felt like the positivity he displayed might be genuine. As if through his horrific plans and goals, there was some humanity left in him trying to find someone to bond with – in all honesty, it wasn't much of a surprise that his main ally _and_ enemy in this group seemed to be Akira, who was like a leading force to _all_ of them.

Maybe, she figured, that was why Akechi despised Akira enough to dare and try to dispose of him. For someone so popular and successful, the concept of a random, foreign school boy gathering people around himself and giving all of them a sense of purpose was surely incomprehensible.

“Yeah, they really shine when he's movin'.”

Startled, she looked over to Ryuji, whose fists were clenched just slightly, an arm casually thrown over Akira's shoulder loosely enough to not interfere with his driving. Even though it was half-way hidden under his skull mask, she could identify a small, most likely angry frown on Ryuji's face. His lips were minimally curled and his eyes seemingly narrowed. The look he was giving Akechi – who himself hadn't torn his gaze from the collar of Akira's coat – was easily readable as _defensive_ , and while months ago, Makoto would have at least slightly wondered about why Ryuji was so protective of comments towards Akira's _clothing_ , it was now highly difficult for her to maintain a natural mien.

All the things she hadn't heard in Akechi's words – admiration, jealousy – were suffocatingly dominant in Ryuji's voice, as if he were trying to defend a helpless puppy with his life. That itself was humoring enough, if only topped off by the fact that he did not even seem to notice his own provocative demeanor.

She dared to try and get a glimpse of the look on Akira's face, and it wasn't of any surprise to her that he _had_ in fact noticed the shifting mood. There was a slim, complacent smile on his lips, even though he didn't even tear his eyes from the tracks ahead. He did, however, reach out to readjust his collar, blood-red glove just faintly brushing against Ryuji's cheek – an act so inconspicuous that Makoto doubted anyone but herself even noticed the meaning it carried.

Well…herself and one briefly annoyed looking Akechi, whose face wasn't as neutrally calm and collected anymore as it had been. However, instead of giving a disapproving look to Akira, he was now in fact slightly raising his eyebrows at the sight of Ryuji, who had already returned to facing front and pointing out a treasure chest to their left that Akira would have otherwise missed. What in the world-?

_Oh._

For the first time in very long, Makoto felt the refreshing delight of schadenfreude.

\---- ----

“Please excuse me for asking you here so spontaneously.”

Makoto shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with the thought of sitting in the same booth she had watched Akira and Ryuji sit in so long ago, only to talk to their leader about the very same topic – or at least a highly related one.

“It's fine. You seemed troubled ever since that Mementos-run last week.”

_Sharp as always._

If she weren't so aware of Akira's feelings for his best friend – if that term even applied to them anymore, considering they were seemingly more than that – she might have found herself dwell in affectionate adulation for her friend's perspicacity at times like these, only more so in sight of him showing absolutely no arrogance about it.

“Yes. While that is the topic I want to discuss, there is something else I will most likely have to confess to you, first.”

She looked around nervously, uncertain how to put her act of stalking into words without it feeling like she broken both her friends' trust by spying on them. It was also a bad reminder of how she had been chasing them down when tasked to find the Phantom Thieves.

“If it's about you following Ryuji and me around, forget it.”

Her eyes widened in shock and she couldn't help but start muttering an apology, only for Akira to cut her off with an amused snort.

“I'm sorry, Makoto, but you've never been very low-key, and I'm not Ryuji.”

By which he quite obviously meant to say: _I'm not blind to everything that isn't right in front of me._

While it was indeed embarrassing to be called out like that, Makoto couldn't help but smile, accepting the faint red spreading on her cheeks. After all, she hadn't planned on watching them _kiss_ in the diner – all the time, it had been about her trying to understand how and why Ryuji's grades had improved.

“Well then, I shall suppose it is best to get straight to the point. It was due to me finding out about your relationship,” she couldn't help but find her voice pitch up slightly at the word, as if she were asking him if that was the right term to call it, “that I was able to perceive a marginally odd behavior in Akechi whenever he looks at the two of you.”

Akira leaned back and crossed his arms, his mood seemingly growing sinister at the thought of anything related to both Akechi and Ryuji. Maybe he had noticed it, too.

“Are you worried?”

“I cannot deny that I'm feeling a little insecure. I'm sure you have noticed the noxious tension between those two. Of course, I have never expected Ryuji to fully hide his contempt for Akechi, however I feel like provoking jealousy in him will not bring any profit to our cause.”

For whatever reason, Akira hissed at that, still sounding amused enough. Makoto knew very well that it wasn't her place to go ahead and tell Ryuji to tone down his protectiveness when it came to Akira, but if she was right about the feelings she detected bubbling up in their allied enemy, it was not only far from smart to be needlessly provocative, but also _dangerous._

“Akira, I'm not sure you understand-”

“Don't worry. I do.”

He shook his head, a smile resting on his lips now. It never seized to amaze her how he could be so calm and collected about almost everything, but for whatever reason, it helped her take a deep breath and calm down as well.

“I agree that Ryuji's attitude isn't really helping, but then again, is it ever?”

She snickered, not having expected such a casual low-blow when she actually should have.

“However, I'm making sure to keep Akechi's attention on me for the most of it. He's so riven with grief that a raised eyebrow is enough to make his blood boil. He won't risk his chance of shooting me in the face by picking any semi-satisfying fights with Ryuji. Neither mental nor physical.”

While he sounded confident enough about that, Makoto herself wasn't so sure. After all the things happening, she didn't feel like Akechi was a very calculable person. If anything, she'd say he was erratic, and even if Akira's perception surely held true for the most of it, who knew what Akechi would do to hurt them if provoked just a bit too much?

“I do want to agree with you, yet I can't help but be concerned. I wouldn't necessarily call Akechi mentally stable, if anything. We should simply avoid unnecessary risks, and if Ryuji is to listen to anyone, we both know it's you.”

They both fell silent. Makoto watched Akira stir the coffee he hadn't put either milk or sugar into, his expression a mixture of smugness and discontent. He never said it out loud – most likely thinking it was his duty to act responsibly – but his relationship with Akechi seemed to be somewhat more than only dangerous levels of rivalry. She wouldn't say that Akira wanted to _prove_ anything by defeating the detective, but there was definitely something – the joy of prevailing, of proving that the Phantom Thieves were so much more than inferior rookies in terms of justice, of making sure they would never let anyone control them again.

While it was inspiring, there were a lot of risks to it as well. Losing sight of their real focus had already gotten them into this highly bad situation; there was no reason to continue or replicate such a fatal mistake.

“You really are concerned, aren't you? I suppose I could try to make him understand.”

And Makoto smiled, her eyes closing for a second, comforted by how understanding, how insightful Akira was. He didn't _want_ to stop the invisible fighting between Ryuji and Akechi, maybe because he enjoyed their rivaling, confusing feelings for him, or the detective losing his cool over something as innocent as affection; but he would _try_ to stop it either way, for his allies – his friends – and their mutual safety and reassurance.

“Thank you, Akira.”

\---- ----

When they next met in the attic, the atmosphere felt slightly off to Makoto, but she was unable to put her finger on it. She briefly glanced over to Akechi, who was leaning against the crafting table and mustering Akira, who himself looked busy enough summarizing all the information they had on the casino palace so far, with the help of Futaba – leaving out the parts they didn't want Akechi to know about, of course.

Even though Makoto knew she should be more concerned regarding this was about her own sister, she found herself unable to do anything but try to pinpoint what exactly made her feel so uncomfortable. No one else seemed to notice the confusing tension in the air, and she wasn't sure if it was something worth bringing up. Maybe she just imagined things?

She tried an observing look at the rest of the gang. Ann was somehow trying to focus, while at the same time playing with her hair almost a bit aggressively and typing away on her phone. Probably something about her modeling, Makoto figured. Haru was calm as always, enjoying coffee Akira had made for her earlier. Yusuke was drawing, and it was only when Makoto saw _what_ was on the paper that she glanced over to Ryuji – because it was him Yusuke was portraying.

The second she lay eyes on their most upbeat team member, she understood. He was _awfully_ quiet, which usually only happened if his leg was hurting or he was in any other way moping about something. Right now, though, he almost seemed collected, and Makoto immediately understood why it was a sight Yusuke wanted to immortalize in a sketch. Like this, staring at nothing in particular – maybe the Phantom Thieves canvas on the wall, or Ann's pigtails close to it – he was like a whole different person. There was something boiling up in him, as if he were trying very hard to-

Makoto remembered then. She had asked Akira to make Ryuji understand he needed to calm down around Akechi, and apparently that conversation had actually taken place. If anything, she was positively surprised, because she hadn't been entirely sure if Akira would eventually see it through considering how often he tended to give in to Ryuji's troublesome behavior, encouraging it even.

Yet, it was a miracle to her that Ryuji had apparently _listened_ to their leader's request. Of course, it was Akira, and Makoto couldn't remember an instance where either of them hadn't eventually followed through with his plans and ideas, but it was still Ryuji, and it was still an entire lot of hatred that must be piling up inside of him – out of the team, he was the closest to Akira by far, considering he hardly had family and even less friends aside from them.

Realizing how terrible it sounded in her head, Makoto cut that thought off. Still, whatever the reason, she couldn't help but be proud of Ryuji for keeping himself under control. Maybe the next time all of them studied for exams together, she would let him get one or the other extra manga-break, also because his grades had increased so well. That being said, though, she could not help but notice a suggestive, yet to herself incomprehensible look shared between the pair, Ryuji frowning and Akira smirking slightly, adjusting his glasses and winking almost unnoticeably.

…

Needless to say, it was enough to have her re-enter the cafe just briefly after everyone excluding those two had stepped out. Surprisingly, when she entered, Morgana passed her by very quickly and followed after the rest of the group. Makoto gave boss an apologetic smile, pointed towards the stairs as if indicating she had forgotten something, and climbed up half-way, silently enough to make sure she wasn't heard. What _she_ heard, however, somehow made her wish she had just left it be.

“Dude, the fuck. Did ya see his stupid look on you? Course you didn't, he was behind you – ugh, why did I say that. I wanna kill this son of a bitch, I swear.”

“You'll have to wait until he killed me, though.”

There was a loud, very displeased grunt, and something that sounded like a body being shoved into a wall. That was when Makoto realized it was time to leave, but she was too close to not hear what came next.

“This ain't funny at _all_.”

“Oh, you want to have fun? You could have just told me, Ryuji.”

She couldn't help but crack a smile, knowing that she would be haunted by the sound of Akira _purring_ those words, and decided that it was time for her to stop this _sneaking up business_.

“What else'd be worth not picking a fight with that bastard?”

 _Immediately_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way I just couldn't help using the word "schadenfreude". As a German, it makes me very happy you can use that word in English.  
> Until next time!


	4. Phrasing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's for the AkiRyu-Discord server, where I was given the idea for it. I love all of you, and this was a hilarious, wonderful thing to write. <3

In all the time they'd known each other, Akira had found that there were but two different specific reasons for Ryuji being quiet all day; he was either hurting in some way, or moping about something that probably held no real importance.

Today it was the latter – luckily, in Akira's opinion, but that didn't mean it bothered him any less. While the rest of the Thieves were discussing their next Mementos-target, he found himself staring at his best friend, waiting for the moment he looked up, prepared to lock eyes and raise an eyebrow expectantly. Normally, it shouldn't be too difficult to wait for that – Akira was a patient guy, sometimes to degrees that his friends called him out for it. But today, it seemed like Ryuji tried extra hard not to look at him no matter the cost, which obviously made the whole possible problem even more worrying.

„Well, everyone, it seems our target is clear. Shall we go in right now, or would you prefer another date?“

Akira sent silent prayers of thanks to Makoto, even though she obviously didn't even know that she was helping him with that.

„I'd suggest tomorrow. If I remember correctly, there's a broadcast Futaba wanted to watch?“

„Hell yeah!“

„And, if I may say so, Yusuke looks a bit starved today.“

That led everyone to the topic of starving artist Yusuke spending all his money on art supplies, and eventually, they all got up to leave. Or, well, everyone but Ryuji, who was still staring into space, his eyebrows furrowed and a small but intense pout on his lips. It reminded Akira of a puppy whose toy was taking away, and needless to say he had a _very_ hard time keeping that fact to himself.

No one batted an eye on Ryuji staying behind – it wasn't the first time that happened, and it wouldn't be the last, after all. At this point, Akira wondered just a tad what everyone thought about that. Not that he honestly cared, but he was slightly curious. Once everyone else was gone, he cleared his throat noisily, causing Ryuji to look up.

“Huh, what? Yeah…Uh…what? Wait, where's everyone else?”

It was  _adorable_ . There was a faint pink spreading on his cheeks when he looked around the room, most likely party expecting everyone else to jump in his view and scream  _“Surprise!” -_ which didn't happen, of course. Instead, he shook his head a little and finally,  _finally_ met Akira's eyes, looking as confused as ever.

“You were lost in your thoughts, so they went ahead. Figured it's alright. Now…won't you tell me what's up?”

And because Ryuji was a terrible liar – especially when they were alone, Akira had noticed – he pouted again,  trying to look away, but eventually failing.

“T's nothin' important, dude. J-just random stuff on my mind.”

_Terrible. Liar._

“Oh, sure. I believe you.”

“Dude! Let's just play some games to free my mind, jeez.”

They did, and Ryuji failed even harder than usually. Sure, the fact that Akira used some special moves he'd read about – bathing in the pride of being called a _dirty cheater_ for it every single time – didn't make the game much fairer, but even apart from that, Ryuji was doing terribly badly. Then, when Akira leaned back in his seat, he understood why – he was being stared at more frequently than not, and there was absolutely no doubt Ryuji was blushing about _that_. Why the hell, though? He doubted there were many people in the world who were more comfortable around each other than the two of them, and if it were about something on Akira's face or clothes, then _surely_ anyone would've pointed it out earlier.

No, this whole attitude was simply weird, and he found himself grow annoyed by it. If there was a single possible thing he did not want, it was Ryuji being uncomfortable around him. So he put his controller down, stood and raised an eyebrow at his best friend, yet again expectant of an explanation. It didn't come.

“Alright then. We'll settle this over some curry.”

Akira was going to make sure to make it extra spicy, to prove his point.

They ended up binge-eating until Ryuji had to gulp down two glasses of milk to be able to breathe again, and Akira found himself leaning back against the booth, hardly able to move a muscle. Sure, he knew how to down the hugest burger in Tokyo, but that didn't help at all with food as spicy as curry.

“Holy fuckin' shit, dude…I swear you're tryin' to kill me here. I'm…dead. And so freakin'…thirsty.”

“You're always thirsty.”

He chose to ignore the tissue that was thrown in his face before falling onto the table, instead chuckling at his own – admittedly very bad – joke. Like this, things were almost back to normal. Ryuji acting offended about stuff he had a hard time not laughing at, blushing at slightly inappropriate jokes – because apparently, he still hadn't accepted that having the hots for his best friend wasn't something he needed to hide, especially when there was no one else around to hear it; well, minus Futaba, but Akira had given her his piece of mind about sharing _anything_ she heard in the cafe with _anyone_.

Yet, he didn't plan on just letting the topic go like that. Whatever had bothered Ryuji all day was still somewhere on his mind, because it always was until he talked about it. And if Akira had to force him to an anime marathon until he spilled it, he would without even hesitating.

“You know I'm keeping you here until I get an explanation.”

“Ugh, dude…”

But the reluctance was fading, even if just a little bit. Maybe Ryuji needed a different form of convincement. Smirking ever so slightly, Akira got up to shift over to the other side of the booth, closing in just enough for them to touch, legs and shoulders brushing against each other's almost casually.

“Mh, maybe I can…persuade you?”

He leaned in, planting a few innocent, slow kisses on Ryuji's cheekbone, taking in the wonderful sight of heat on his cheeks, the way his eye twitched, his lids grew heavy and he bit his lips as if forcing himself not to give in. Whatever he was hiding, it embarrassed him greatly, and that of course made Akira want to to know even more.

“S-stop cheating. Haven't ya had your fun earlier?”

“I just can't get enough of you, it seems.”

He was purring by now, and he knew. There was no need for him to look down to see the goosebumps on Ryuji's skin, or the way he shivered slightly. It was honestly a bit unfair, but then again, they'd never agreed on playing fair in the first place.

“O-okay fine! I'll tell ya! Jeez, get off!”

Akira accepted being shoved away a bit, although only because Ryuji finally looked at him again, a questioning expression on his face, fiddling with his fingers nervously. It was unbelievably cute, but Akira decided to better not mention that right now.

“Y-you remember the interview with that stupid volleyball ace earlier?”

Of course he did. They'd watched the whole documentary about some sunnyboy volleyball star whose fangirls regularly seemed to faint at the sight of him. Honestly, the whole thing had been horrendous, but it'd been either that or having to get up and grab the remote and turn it off. Obviously, staying cuddled up with Ryuji had been the superior choice, even though Akira mourned the fact that they could've watched more than four full episodes of anime in that time. Either way, he nodded, still confused about where this was going.

“Yeah, well, it…just reminded me of runnin'. The whole deal with his fans and comrades callin' him senpai an' that shit.”

And because now he finally understood where this was going, Akira couldn't keep his smug grin from growing.

“What, don't tell me you're jealous? You want the girls to call you that, too?”

“N-no, dude. Like I told Yusuke, I'm over that. T'was pretty dumb to begin with.”

His grin faded. If it wasn't that, then why did Ryuji even care so much about that useless documentary? Really, the fans screaming something like _YAMATO-SENPAI_ was the only thing about the _whole_ one and a half hours that Akira remembered, so he couldn't imagine there being anything else about it that could possibly bother someone.

“If it's not about that, then what's the problem?”

Ryuji sighed, groaned and his face was definitely getting redder with each second. By now, he was facing the wall, pressing into it to get as far away as possible, but then finally mumbled:

“Was thinkin'. What'd it sound like if…”

He sighed again, swallowed, looked at Akira, then at the table, buried his head in his hands shortly and then looked up at the ceiling, almost whining when he continued.

“If you said it.”

And as sorry as he was about it, Akira could not help himself from bursting into laughter, throwing his head back so hard that he almost hit the backrest, trying to bite his lips to shut himself up, but to no avail. He knew he shouldn't enjoy this so much, and he knew that Ryuji was glaring at him in disapproval, but it was simply _too_ unbelievably _adorable_!

“I…I'm sorry…I'm so sorry.”

Akira was still laughing, spitting the words out a bit before letting his head fall onto the table.

“And that's why I said I ain't tellin'! Dude, sometimes-!”

“Sorry, sorry! It's just…”

Wiping a few tears from his eyes, he raised his head again and took a moment to even his breath. All day he'd been worried sick about Ryuji, even though he'd expected it to be nothing too severe. Who could've even remotely expected it to come down to something as simple as _this_?

“Please, forgive me; I was just worried, and didn't expect the problem to be so…unproblematic.”

And then he moved closer again, pulling Ryuji into a tight hug and closing in on his ear enough to teasingly murmur:

“Will you still be able to love me, Sakamoto-senpai?”

Considering the passionate, demanding kiss he got right afterwards, he figured the documentary had been worth it, after all.


	5. Spark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nope, the titles for these kinds of fics aren't gonna get any more creative.  
>  ~~Sorry it's so short, but I didn't upload one in here in a month, so...~~

It's a horribly exhausting day in Mementos, and Akira silently _begs_ that they'll find their target rather sooner than later. They're so deep down in the place that the surroundings alone are enough to make him – and the others, he knows – feel sick, and that isn't even the main reason why he's feeling dizzy. He calls for Metatron to eliminate a group of Black Oozes; only a single Sandman is left before they can breathe again, and Akira is very well aware of Sandman's weakness, because Futaba mentioned it at least twice now. He looks over to Ryuji almost shyly, sees his anticipation, how he's waiting for the baton to be passed to him, and Akira can't help but swallow hard before he nods slowly and starts moving.

Really, the thought that he almost pukes when their hands touch isn't far-fetched, and he hates it, but pulls himself together and watches Ryuji let a Ziodyne explode right into Sandman, deciding the battle.

Akira takes a deep breath and needs to pull himself together with all his might in order not to drop to his knees. He's exhausted, but they need to push onward, at least until the next safe room, so they can rest up.

“Joker, are you…?”

Makoto's voice is somewhere very far away, and he just nods to indicate that he is alright. Either way, he lets her take the wheel of the Mona-car and makes sure to sit on the exact other side as Ryuji did, a fact that doesn't go unnoticed, but Akira can't help it. The presence of his best friend is suffocating, and if he is to be touched by him any longer, he'll _faint._

Somehow, they make it without any bigger wounds or bruises, and everyone drops into the seats at the station to catch their breaths. The fact that they haven't been training much the last weeks due to exams definitely shows, and Akira regrets pushing everyone so far.

“We should head out for now,” he announces, forcing his voice to sound steady and firm, but lets his warm head lean against the cold glass next to himself. Just a moment, he simply needs to _breathe_.

When he feels a touch on his shoulder, an electric shock rushing right through the very center of himself, he has a hard time fighting the blackness behind his eyes. The impact of Ryuji's touch is always strong, for the Zio-energy seems to be flooding him at all times, but today, Akira is _packed_ with Persona that are weak to electric attacks, and it _shows_. He can barely take a deep breath next to his best friend, he's on constant alarm and maybe he should just spill it, but he cannot bring himself to say the words _“Stay away from me, your presence makes me sick”_ into Ryuji's face. Not like that, and not any kinder, either.

“Dude, you alright?”

He only nods, closes his eyes and hopes that Ryuji lets it go – a naive wish, all things considered, but Akira's too tired to think properly, too starved to care, and if he were to be honest to himself, he'd admit that all he wanted was for the rest of the team to go ahead and leave them here so he could soundly drop unconscious in his best friend's arms.

 _You're pathetic_ , a voice inside him mutters, and he isn't sure if it is his own, or maybe Arsene's, or even Metatron's, whom he still has equipped as his current mask.

“Let's head back for now,” Morgana suggests, and Akira knows the cat is giving him a confused, maybe even disgusted look. There's only so much you can hide from the one you're living with, and this very obvious crush on another member of their team is not one of those things, _especially_ considering how it's _mutual_. What Morgana doesn't know, though, is that Akira isn't acting the way he is because of his ridiculously strong feelings, but because his Persona are linked so closely to his own mind that he can't always deal with it, especially on rainy days like today. Sadly, they don't only affect the enemies in Mementos, but himself, too.

“Yeah, let's…let's go.”

Somehow, they make it back to the entrance, but because the day wasn't exhausting enough before, and because it's _Ryuji_ , he has the great idea to pat Akira's shoulder ever-so-slightly, as if trying to compliment him.

Needless to say, the compliment doesn't quite reach him, unlike the heavy electric shock making his knees go weak and having him drop to the floor.

“Joker!”

All eyes are on him, and he lacks the mental and physical strength to stop Ryuji from pulling him up to his feet and into a comforting but painful hug. Everything in Akira's mind wants to pass out, to let himself drop into sweet slumber right in this itching, caressing embrace. It's overwhelming, he wants all of them gone, he wants for the two of them to be alone with their supernatural powers and slowly drift away alongside his feelings-

Somehow, he's feeling lucky today, so he locks eyes with Ryuji, smiles faintly and makes the mistake of leaning in to kiss him. The last thing Akira feels is his consciousness slipping from himself, and the soft shock rocking his body before everything goes black.

• • •

When he wakes up, head buried into soft fabric, a tender hand brushing the streaks of his hair out of his face, the electricity is gone entirely. He recognizes the decorative stars Yusuke gave him on the ceiling, he knows that the firm touch is Ryuji's, and he blushes at the sound of Ann harrumphing and Futaba chuckling at the sight of him coming to.

“We made it out, I see,” he tries to say nonchalantly, but fails. His voice sounds shy, a little embarrassed maybe, and the way his teammates are staring at him doesn't help. Thinking back now, passing out in Mementos might not have been the best way of dropping the bomb about their relationship, and his adoration for Ryuji's electricity flowing through him was a sort of kink he'd rather keep to himself, thank you very much.

“Had to carry ya the whole goddamn way. Don't get me started on boss's skeptical look, dude.”

“It's all your fault for touching me in the first place.”

“You could'a _told_ me, man!”

They ignored the world around them during their bickering, so strongly, in fact, that Akira found himself lose every sense of decency when he finally snapped:

“How exactly? _Please keep a safe distance of five meters, for bodily contact with you makes me weak. Actually, no, stay close, I'd_ love _to drop unconscious in your arms.”_

He shuts up when Morgana makes loud gagging sounds and Yusuke inhales sharply, as if those words alone were inspiration for him for the next three months. At first, Akira considers apologizing to Ryuji, who's turning a deep shade of red now, but then decides to instead pull him down by the collar and steal a short, innocent kiss from him.

“Sorry for worrying you.”

“Y-You better be.”

They're both smiling like morons, and Akira could swear he hears the sound of a camera app going off, but he couldn't care any less if he tried.


	6. Appreciation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A real shorty I wrote as a request. :3   
> Not much to it, and I'm actually mildly surprised that I, yet again, managed to press some pain into it.

Out of all the possible unexpected hidden things to learn about Akira, the very last one Ryuji would've considered was the secret longing for pats on the head, or the fact that getting them made Akira turn into a wholesome, purring cat-human that was both too cute and beautiful to possibly be real. But here they were, somehow cuddled up on the bed without a care in the world, Ryuji's hand relentlessly caressing Akira's head, and honestly, he doubted he'd ever seen the guy so relaxed in his life.

It was hard to say how they'd gotten here, in hindsight, but somehow, after an incredibly exhausting day in Mementos, they'd decided to head over to Leblanc, effectively crashing onto each other on the bed. One thing had led to another, and now they were leaning against each other, breaths and heartbeats aligning, and Ryuji wouldn't even be surprised if Akira had fallen asleep by now – his even humming made it sound like that, so Ryuji tried to get a peek-

“Don't stop.”

He couldn't help but chuckle at the childish voice and the pouting, but picked back up on the motion he hadn't even noticed stopping in the first place. Not that he understood what about it made Akira so docile, but it was quite the sight – the kind you'd want to show to the world in pride, and at the same time keep to yourself and treasure it forever.

“Dude, no offense, but I never took you for the touchy kind, not gonna lie.”

At least to him it felt like he was usually the one craving physical contact, using every possibly situation for a high five, or to throw his arm around Akira's shoulder in the Metaverse, or lean close to him in one of the booths downstairs while studying. It wasn't like Akira had ever seemed opposed to their touches, but also not really like he was craving them. Right now, though, he was _demanding_. And as if to prove that he _was_ indeed touchy if he wanted, he tightened his grip around Ryuji's body, head buried into the crook of his neck. It almost tickled a bit, but it felt too good to complain about.

“You know how parents reward their kids for achievements? Encouraging looks, pats on shoulders or head and all that?”

“Mh, I guess?”

It was something his mom still liked to do, although her favorite would probably always be hair-ruffling. So generally, yes, Ryuji knew – however, what did that have to do with anything.

“Mine never did that.”

_Oh shit._

Akira's parents had always been a sensitive topic. Ryuji remembered asking one or the other dumb question about them that Akira  had used to answer with a polite smile, never really replying to them though, and they' d both tried their best to never make them a topic  again ; in all the time they'd known each other, no matter how often Ryuji had commented about his mom needing him or coming home late or anything, really, he'd never heard Akira mention his parents for any reason, so it was most likely safe to figure that they'd cast him away to Tokyo and simply didn't care.  Him mentioning them like that was not only new, but also a bit scary.

“When I was really young, I wondered why, but growing up, I understood.”

Smiling weakly, Akira sat up, although Ryuji didn't yet let go of the back of his head, eyes focused on the way he bit his lower lip in dismay, remembering memories he had most likely forced himself to forget.

“The lack of praise was a constant reminder that whatever I did was never enough. _As long as there is room for improvement, there's no need for rewards._ I think that's what they thought. It hurt so much that I forced myself to believe I didn't care…”

And Ryuji nodded even though it wasn't a question, because  _hell_ if he didn't understand that. It had been the same with people talking about their perfect families, love and appreciation and what-not. He'd heard so many great things about summer vacation that he hadn't been able to relate to, felt so much jealousy and hatred towards the others, that he'd tried to tell himself he didn't need it, didn't  _want_ it.

“Sorry for bringin' it up.”

“Don't be.”

Slumping down back against him, Akira sighed, sounding pleased enough though, and hummed in pleasure again when Ryuji continued the head-patting-stroking-motion from before.

“You know, Ryuji.”

Now he hummed, indicating that he was listening.

“Their lame pats couldn't have been half as good as yours anyway.”

And even though he knew there was no reason to, he blushed a little, chuckled and shoved Akira a bit before pulling him back in.

“I could never appreciate you enough, y'know?”

They both fell silent, and that was  all they needed to know that they'd be fine. No matter the bad things in their past, they could lean onto each other and enjoy the small things they'd never thought were possible before.

Combing the soft, messy streaks patiently for another minute or hour or however long it was, listening to the content purr-humming, feeling himself grow dizzy, sleepy, Ryuji couldn't help but think that he could hardly ever wish for any more than this.


End file.
